


folsom prison blues

by yhighon



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Video Game Mechanics, based on tommy's 01/21 stream, when he visits dream in the prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yhighon/pseuds/yhighon
Summary: Tommy’s supposed to visit today. He isn’t sure when, or if the stupid teenager will even show up, but it’s enough to make the clock move a little faster.Dream sits across from the clock, watching it tick away slowly. It mocks him.It was ironic, that he was the one stuck in here, in this inescapable box. Poetic, really. Theseus had won again, he mused. Technoblade was always the one to say things like that, but even Dream had to admit, it fit.He’d worked so hard to get here, given everything up in his attempt, but still, he’d failed.(Dream rots in the prison. Tommy comes to gloat.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 162





	folsom prison blues

**Author's Note:**

> uhh idk tw for weird blood/cut imagery and like, dream dying in the lava? idk, just wanted to put it out there just in case lmao

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock on the wall moves slowly, loudly announcing its presence with the crackling lava that flows outside. The obsidian walls feel like they’re closing around him, although logically he knows they’re staying the same distance away.

Tommy’s supposed to visit today. He isn’t sure when, or if the stupid teenager will even show up, but it’s enough to make the clock move a little faster. 

Dream sits across from the clock, watching it tick away slowly. It mocks him.

It’s only been a day and a half. At least, he’s pretty sure it’s been a day and a half. 

Sam, Sapnap, and BadBoyHalo had walked him into here, with Sapnap and Bad leaving at the entrance, Sam making sure to walk him the rest of the way. Everything he’d owned had been confiscated, leaving him with nothing but his clothes.

Green hoodie, black pants, boots, and his mask were all that remained. 

Sam had been as unresponsive as ever while they’d walked inside, but Dream wasn’t ever one for small talk anyways, except for occasional questions about how the prison worked. 

He’d been the one to have it built, anyway. Lost a lot of money for it.

It was ironic, that he was the one stuck in here, in this inescapable box. There were books, pens to write words in them, but Dream didn’t have anything to write, and no one who would care to read them if he did.

It was a sign that he’d succeeded in his self-destruction, that only Tommy was willing to visit. The person he’d been so desperate to hold onto, to get his hands on only for it to be his downfall.

Poetic, really. Theseus had won again, he mused. Technoblade was always the one to say things like that, but even Dream had to admit, it fit.

He’d worked so hard to get here, given everything up in his attempt, but still, he’d failed.

He ran his hand back over the obsidian floor, retracting it when the sharp edge drew blood. It was fascinating, to see it pool in the cut, the red color slowly filling the white underneath. Viscous liquid would fall to the ground in rivulets, slowly staining his clothes. The wrists of his hoodie were already stained, a dark rust color. 

Mostly accidents. Obsidian was sharp, after all.

He was slowly overheating, but he was unwilling to take off his hoodie, and would rather roast inside of it. The clock ticked on. 

The heat made it harder to think, which was fine. Dream found he had almost too much to think about, with nothing but his own psyche thrown back at him. The obsidian walls mocked him, and he remembered a room he’d found once on the server, made of the same material.

But there are no signs here, no pets belonging to others. Just a chest full of blank books, a cauldron of water, a glowstone lamp, and a clock that continues to tick tick tick away.

The lamp seems redundant, with the lava just outside, but Dream is grateful for it just the same. A light source that actually lights up the room. If it was left dark, he doesn’t know how he would react. Nothing to do but stare into the void, instead of staring at what imperfections he could find in the walls.

It would be like being dead.

Dream is already dead, in a sense. Stuck in a box with no way out, dependent on the guards to bring him enough food to survive. Able to die over and over, with no one batting an eye.

He doesn’t sleep. Before his imprisonment, it was a blessing. More time to get things done, more time to reach his goals. More time to be with friends.

Now, it’s a curse. The constant mining fatigue threatens to pull him under, draining his energy, making even the sharpest of the obsidian look inviting.

But every time he gets close, he jolts awake. Punishment, for everything. Sometimes he wonders if it’s Sam’s doing, if he somehow found a way to enforce sleep deprivation.

In a deeper part of his mind, he knows it’s all him.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

He can hear something coming, through the lava. A loud voice asking questions, making small talk. A monotone one giving short answers. Tommy is here.

Dream watches the lava go down ever so slowly, can’t stop himself from jumping in it. The searing pain is a nice break, the heat eating away at his flesh, until his body can’t take it anymore and he’s sent back, falling through the tunnel into the water that breaks his fall.

It takes a long time, but eventually Tommy is sent through, into the cell. Netherite blocks stop him from coming any closer (really, they’re stopping Dream from running), and they wait patiently for the lava to fall back down, trapping them together.

It used to be a span of woods that kept them together, nothing but the wilderness. Dream used to be in control. Now, they’re stuck in an obsidian box, and Tommy has the power.

“Hello, Dream.” Tommy says.

“Hi.” Dream says, moving further back into the cell.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, already completely ready to mock him, knock him down a peg. Dream can’t even hold it against him.

“Not really.” 

He shows the younger boy around the cell, the chest full of books. Tommy takes one, finding it empty and returning it to the chest.

“Here’s my clock.” Dream says. Tick. Tock. The clock introduces itself back. 

Tommy looks at the clock for a moment, before spinning it around on its hook, around and around, in a circle.

“Ha, Dream, look.” Tommy laughs, and Dream looks back at it, spinning the clock once Tommy takes his hands away.

“Ha, a new game.” He says. Something to do, at the very least. 

“Ha!” Tommy takes the clock off the hook, holding it out of arm’s reach. Dream doesn’t fight for it. “No clock for you!”

“Tommy, give me my clock back.” Dream says, and it’s not very intimidating, but Tommy relents anyways. Dream wonders if he actually looks that pathetic.

“Okay, okay.” He replaces the clock on the wall, and it resumes it’s guard, the incessant ticking filling the room again.

He shows him the rest of the cell. Lets Tommy kill him so he can see Dream fall out of the tunnel.

“I’ll give you homework.” Tommy jokes, pulling out several books and beginning to write in them. 

“I have nothing better to do.” Dream says, not lying for the first time in months. His time is currently spent in a mixture of staring at the clock, trying to figure out his next move, wondering if anyone remembers that he’s stuck in here.

At the very least, Sam and whoever else is guarding him remember. It’s somehow worse.

Tommy replaces the books, and Dream takes a look. All absolutely ridiculous, but he’ll take what he can get. Tommy’s the first to visit him, after all. The first to venture into the prison, the first to come mock him and gloat for everyone’s victory.

He guesses he got what he wanted. A server united. He only wishes that he were there with it, reveling in power that he’d worked so hard for. Power he’d given everything up for.

They sit in silence for a moment, not entirely awkward. 

“Who do you miss the most?” Tommy asks, and Dream knows he’s not going to answer that. He stays silent. _Sapnap. George. Fundy._ “Aw, come on. Who do you miss the most?” Silence. “I swear, if you say Gogy-”

He’s no longer listening.

“It’s kind of sad in here.” Tommy says, and Dream is glad for the mask covering his face, so that he doesn’t have to act like Tommy is wrong. The prison is one of the most depressing places on the server, Dream having made it that way.

“It’s okay. I can write, even though I haven’t yet. I plan to. I can swim.” He says, moving to stand in the lava. His whole body on fire, melting. Respawn into the tunnel, into the water.

“Okay, Dream.” Tommy says, in the tone of voice that Dream knows means he doesn’t believe him. That’s fine.

“Who do you miss the most?” Tommy asks again. 

“Guard!” Dream says, calling out for Sam. “Get in the water, Tommy.” 

“What? No! I’m not gonna get in the water.” Tommy fights back, and they bicker for a moment before Sam comes back.

“Tommy, get in the water.” Sam says, with the commanding monotone that Dream already knows well. Tommy does, and he’s instantly killed, sent back to the room that Dream knows is on the other side.

“Bye, Dream.” Tommy sighs, and Dream waves, even though he knows Tommy can’t see him.

Alone again. He flips back through the books that Tommy left, proof that someone else had been here. 

Tick. Tock.

The clock continues to make its presence known, continues to tick away. 

It’s nighttime, Dream notes. 

Tommy had said he’d visit, said he’d come back in a few days, to see if Dream had written what he’d left him. Dream doubts he will, when there’s many people on the rest of the server he has to make peace with, repair friendships with.

Bitterly, he notes that Tubbo will be there with him the whole way. Knows that even those on the server that dislike Tommy would still be more willing to make friends.

Should’ve paid me more, Punz’ voice echoes in his ears. 

He’d gotten what he wanted. The server was united.

It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

**Author's Note:**

> did i listen to folsom prison blues the whole time i was writing this? yes. is it also the title? yes, because i couldn't resist lmao. 
> 
> don't cancel me but dream is still my favorite, i just think he's interesting (although im very interested to see what happens in the next season)
> 
> ~~also i kinda relate to him shhhhhhhhhhhh~~
> 
> me, literally three hours ago: hmmm idk im just so uninspired  
> me, watching the stream: it's fic time bitches
> 
> anyway, have a good day/night, don't ruin all ur relationships/everything you love and get thrown in prison (even though it can be oh so tempting ;))


End file.
